Chapter II.VII

Mister Thurlow continued to hold the phone to his ear, but only beeps could be heard from it, indicating that the conversation between him and his neighbour had come to an end. He was still in shock from the content of the talking that had just happened between them. Slowly, as if half asleep, he put the phone down and plopped down in a chair, clutching his head with both hands. Darkness filled his gaze. Jo didn't know how long it had been since he hung up, but when from the yard the piercing bark of his faithful Buffalo reached his ears, he, looking for yesterday's shorts and T-shirt, cursed in every possible way the Cronus, God of the harvest, who did not take pity on his pitiful slave and did not make any efforts to delay this inevitable meeting for as many hours as possible...

Jo walked out onto the porch of his house. The rain, which he had the pleasure of seeing this morning, has finally stopped. He glanced at the wicket. Buffalo, as befits a good watchdog, ran near it and burst into barking. "So", mister Thurlow thought, "How great it would be now..." But common sense reminded its nervous owner in time that this was complete idiocy, let the dog loose on guests, especially if they are his neighbours and - most importantly - representatives of the better half of humanity. Sighing, Jo took the collar with the leash pre-attached to it hanging on a nail near the door and walked up to the wicket. The dog looked at the owner and continued to rush at the fence. The man had to almost forcefully put a collar on the powerful neck of his Buffalo and, tying it to a pole that stood some distance from the entrance to the house, let the guests in.

- Greetings, - Jo said to missis Yonce. - Hi there, - he nodded to her daughter.

Both women bowed to him and, stepping over the threshold, looked at the dog, which, at the sight of strangers, began to rear up, trying to get ahead.

- So, welcome to me, - mister Thurlow smiled. - As you can see, my dog is vicious...

- I think he'll get used to it, - missis Yonce said mysteriously, winking at little girl

- Hey, where are you going? - exclaimed Jo as Delia began to approach Buffalo.

- What are you afraid of, mister Thurlow, he won't touch her, - the neighbour said without a trace of concern.

- And how do you... - he started.

But Jo didn’t have time to ask his question and died out in mid-sentence. Delia was already standing next to the dog, who had stopped trying to break free from the leash. Now he sat still and looked at the girl with puppy dog eyes. She bent down and, patting the Belgian Malinois behind the ear, started whispering something cheerfully to him. And her mother turned her head to Jo and smiled.

- H-h-how is that possible.... - muttered mister Thurlow.

Jo, feeling ashamed of his dog, tried to fight back the tears that were welling up in his throat. He could not even think that his Buffalo, behind whom he always felt unquestioning loyalty to his master, would bend like a lamb to someone else's girl...

- How about you let us in? - missis Yonce said in a businesslike tone

- Yes, missis Ivette, right away... - Jo answered briefly

Closing the wicket, he headed towards the porch. The woman stood in the yard for a while and, calling her daughter, slowly followed him. In the hallway, Jo, smiling embarrassedly, said that he could not offer the guests slippers or any other house shoes. Adult guest nodded understandingly.

- Well, yes, you couldn’t imagine that a mom with kid would come to you, - she said ironically. - If it is no secret, when was the last time a woman set foot on your doorstep?

- Five years ago, then my mother left this world... - Jo said quietly.

- My sincere condolences to you, - she answered in a cloudless mood.

While the adults were having this dialogue, the little girl, without thinking twice, took off her shoes and, appearing before her mother and Jo in white stockings, jumped up and twirled in some kind of carefree dance.

- Be careful, Delia, don't get your stockings dirty, - missis Yonce said sternly.

- Fear not, mommy! - the child said loudly.

Delia stopped dancing and looked up at her mother. Then she turned her gaze to the owner of the house.

- You have a very cute doggie, ajussi Jo! - she said ingratiatingly.

- Well, yes... - mister Thurlow began slowly. - I understand that I could not resist your charms.

- Nothing can resist me! - she answered with some pride

- No messing now, dearie! - the mother again began to reason with her daughter.

- I'm hungry, - the girl ignored her words. - When are we going to eat?

When the child said these words, mister Thurlow only now noticed the picnic basket covered with a red towel, which missis Yonce was holding in her hands. The latter nodded to Delia and asked the owner of the house to take them to the kitchen. Jo slowly trudged ahead of them. There was an emptiness in his soul at the moment - one might think that Delia's ringing voice extinguished all his thoughts. Entering the kitchen, mister Thurlow offered the guests chairs. Adult guest, thanking her, put the basket on the table and, taking off the towel from it, began to lay out the food from it. The baby girl did not sit down at the table - she went to the window and tried to open the tightly drawn curtains. Jo rushed after her and helped her in this matter. The kitchen was illuminated by the rays of the sun, which was already shining with all its might in the sky, which had already cleared of clouds.

- Where are your dishes, mister Thurlow?

Jo moved away from the window and, opening the kitchen cabinet doors, asked a counter question:

- What exactly should you submit, missis Ivette?

The woman, after thinking a little, asked the owner of the house to get two large plates, two saucers and two cups (and the same number of forks and spoons). Noticing the bewilderment on his face, missis Yonce said that she herself had already had a good breakfast, so she was giving all the food to him and her daughter. Shrugging his shoulders, Jo complied with her demands - taking out the necessary dishes and cutlery, placing them near the sink.